One thing that's really stood out for me since moving from the Big City to the Small Town is how much less aware I am of global and even national events. I still get the same articles in my Facebook feed, I guess, but my focus is much more local.
And I wanted that. Going from editing a national magazine to providing direct service within a few miles' radius gave me the personal connections I was missing in my work. And I wanted my world to shrink to a manageable size so I could recover from the burnout of being stacked on top of and crammed together with 8 million of my fellow humans for 5 years.
But there are days when I feel cut off from the world and people who are in tune with and talk about the world outside their immediate sphere. And today, as news of Manning's sentence is making the internet rounds, I don't want to read smart, progressive articles or poignant, pointed tweets about what it means. I want to sit in a room with other people who are outraged or dejected or confused and just feel things and ask each other questions and stare at the floor.
Will that happen at the potluck tonight or around my kitchen table tomorrow or at the coffee shop Friday? Maybe, but probably not. I've felt this way many times recently--when Zimmerman was found not guilty, when Assata showed up on the most-wanted list, when the California prison hunger striker died, whenever there's news of Lynn Stewart's health declining. I could go on.
Maybe what I really miss is talking to people who are working on national or global social justice and a sense of hope for what is happening on the ground. All I'm left with is the headlines and a feeling of isolation.
Haiku for August 21, 2013 (aka tl;dr)
My New York Lefties,
Let's be depressed together
Til we change the world.
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